Valentine’s Day has always been one of my least favorite holidays, even though I’ve been with the same wonderful man for nearly five years. (Read: This isn’t about not being able to find a date.) To me, the Hallmark holiday has always reeked of artificial affection, overcrowded restaurants and cheap candy. Never mind that I’m missing something nearly everyone else on the planet seems to have, an attribute all but required to enjoy this sugar-laden jubilee: a sweet tooth. Chocolate cake? Never gonna happen.

But I’m not trying to convince anyone of the foolishness and futility behind this celebration. Rather, I want to get in on the fun this year, to try to let go of an admittedly bitter outlook and embrace the holiday. And then it hit me. What’s just as present as love on Valentine’s Day? Bitterness, of course: romance’s ugly twin.

It was perfect. Not only are the disgruntled lovers and sullen singles carousing in opposition this time of year, but bitter flavors abound in the kale, escarole, citrus and cranberries in season right now. Plus, bitter is one of the tastes humans are most sensitive to, and maybe a little more sensitivity is just what I needed.

And so it was decided: I would have a celebration of love and devotion with my guy in the form of bitters. But where to begin? Kimchi, the Korean staple of fermented cabbage, sprang to mind, but it seemed too funky for the occasion. Bitter melons, frequently found in Asian, African and Caribbean markets, seemed less like an aphrodisiac and more like something we should ingest to cure a bad stomachache. But Italian cuisine hit the mark on all counts. Bitter ingredients are ubiquitous; my cocktail of choice is a classic bitter Italian aperitif, the Negroni; and there’s no culture more romantic, no place dearer to my heart ever since I studied in Verona in college.

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I knew that Washington, D.C. chef Michael Friedman could help. The man spent a year traveling through Italy, recently returned a beaming newlywed from his subsequent Italian honeymoon and is opening an Italian-inspired restaurant, the Red Hen, next month in D.C.’s Bloomingdale neighborhood. Oh, and did I mention he catered Selma Hayek’s wedding in Italy?

I called him. “What do you think about doing a bitter menu for Valentine’s Day?” I asked.

“It’s perfect. There are two sides of love: bitter and sweet,” said Friedman, without missing a beat. “You’re lucky if you have more of one than the other, but one can’t exist without the other, either. Plus, they’re better together.” Bingo!

Friedman got to work, helping me create a menu, stressing that when you’re cooking with bitter foods, balance is paramount. “Whenever a dish has a contrast in texture, temperature and flavors, that’s what excites the taste buds,” he told me as we went over a salad recipe for bitter greens with oranges, almonds and anchovy vinaigrette. The radicchio, endive and escarole held up their bitter end, but they’re balanced with nuttiness from cheese and almonds, sweetness from oranges, and saltiness from anchovies and capers.

Similarly, the entree Friedman developed was, while brazenly bitter, perfectly symmetrical. Short ribs, slow-cooked in a tangy tomato sauce, are served over creamy polenta with garlicky escarole and freshly shaved horseradish. Done and done.

The grand finale? Chocolate budino (that’s Italian for pudding) with grapefruit cream and espresso crumbs. Given my missing sweet tooth, I was nervous. But Friedman assured me I would love it. Grapefruit zest added a tropical note that cut the richness of the chocolate, and the textures of espresso crumbs, pudding and cream made for a flawless dish even a salty gal like myself could appreciate.

All that was left was the cocktail. If you’re going to make a negroni, you’d be a fool to go anywhere besides directly to Jeff Faile, bar manager at D.C.’s Fiola and king of the negroni; he’s got half a dozen varieties on his menu, after all. And for the bitter occasion, he has created a special Valentine’s Day concoction, the Negroni d’Amore. For those unfamiliar with negronis, the drink, which was contrived in Florence, is an aperitif made with equal parts gin, sweet vermouth and — you guessed it — bitters, usually Campari.

But Faile likes to mix things up (pun intended) and decided to use Cocchi Barolo Chinato, a bitter digestivo from Piemonte steeped with herbs and spices, in place of the vermouth, and Kina L’Avion D’Or, a wine-based spirit with notes of quinine and quince, instead of Campari. His choice of gin: Ransom Old Tom, a heavy brown gin aged in pinot noir barrels.

“The Barolo has nice chocolate notes and needed something heavy to pull out the flavors and maintain the body,” he explained. “A lighter gin would’ve gotten lost.” Fortunately, Faile assured me we could drink this throughout our meal, not just as an aperitif. I’ll drink to that.

And I knew that my boyfriend — the sweet to my bitter — could, too.

Special to The Washington Post

Bitter Greens With Shaved Radish, Almonds and Anchovy Vinaigrette

8 servings

This colorful mixture of winter greens is brightened with citrus.

MAKE AHEAD: The vinaigrette needs to sit for 1 hour so the flavors can blend. It can be refrigerated for up to 5 days; you’ll have some left over. From Michael Friedman, chef of the upcoming Red Hen restaurant in Washington, D.C.’s Bloomingdale neighborhood.

For the vinaigrette: Use a mortar and pestle or a mini food processor to process the anchovies and capers into a paste. Whisk or blend in the mustard, vinegar, lemon juice and pepper, then add the oil in a slow, steady stream, whisking or blending to form an emulsified vinaigrette.

Place the minced shallot in a bowl, then pour the vinaigrette over it, stirring just to combine. Cover and refrigerate for 1 hour to let the ingredients marry. Taste, and season with salt if needed.

Use immediately or refrigerate for up to five days.

For the salad: Combine the radicchio, endive, escarole, fennel and radish in a large mixing bowl. Add the shaved cheese, if using, and the almonds. Pour 1/2 cup of the vinaigrette over the salad and toss to coat evenly, then divide among individual plates, creating tall piles. Garnish each portion with some of the orange. Serve right away.

The base of this three-layer dessert is a cornstarch-thickened custard (budino in Italian). To infuse the grapefruit cream with even more citrus flavor, combine the zest and heavy cream and refrigerate for a few hours before the cream is whipped.

MAKE AHEAD: The budino can be made and refrigerated up to a day in advance. The espresso crumbs can be stored at room temperature for up to 5 days. The grapefruit cream can be made and refrigerated up to 2 days in advance. From Michael Friedman, chef of the upcoming Red Hen in Washington, D.C.’s Bloomingdale neighborhood.

For the espresso crumbs: Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Have a baking sheet at hand.

Combine the flour, granulated sugar, and espresso and cocoa powders in a food processor and pulse to blend. Add the butter and pulse/process to achieve a pebbly consistency. Spread evenly on the baking sheet. Bake for about 12 minutes to form a solid chocolate sheet. Let it cool completely, then break up the sheet into different-size crumbs and pieces, which can be used right away or stored in a container at room temperature for up to 5 days.

For the grapefruit cream: Beat the heavy whipping cream in the bowl of a stand mixer or hand-held mixer on medium speed just until the mixture starts to thicken. Stop and add the grapefruit zest, vanilla extract and confectioners’ sugar. Beat on medium speed to form soft peaks. Cover and refrigerate until ready to use, up to 2 days.

For the budino: Prepare an ice bath large enough to hold a large saucepan that will be used to cook the milk mixture.

Combine 2 cups of the milk, half of the granulated sugar and all of the salt in the saucepan over medium heat, stirring until the sugar has dissolved.

Combine the chocolate and butter in a heatproof bowl, then place the bowl over the pot of milk. Once the chocolate has melted, stir to incorporate the butter, adding the brewed espresso. Let cool to room temperature.

Combine the cornstarch and the remaining 5 tablespoons of granulated sugar in a mixing bowl. Gradually stir in the remaining 1-1/4 cups of milk, then whisk in the egg yolks until well blended.

Slowly add a bit of the hot milk mixture to the egg yolk mixture, whisking constantly to prevent the egg yolks from coagulating. Add the tempered egg yolk mixture to the pot of hot milk, whisking to form a thickened custard (budino). The mixture should coat the back of a spoon yet remain somewhat pourable.

Slowly add the finished budino to the bowl of chocolate. Fold everything together with a spatula until fully incorporated. Immediately transfer the bowl to the ice bath to cool the mixture quickly.

If you find any clumps, use a flexible spatula to push the budino through a fine-mesh strainer. At this point, the budino can be served immediately or covered with a piece of plastic wrap placed directly on the surface and refrigerated for up to a day.

When ready to assemble, divide the budino among glassware or dessert bowls. Top each portion equally with the espresso crumbs, then with a generous dollop of the grapefruit cream. Serve right away.